I literally hadn’t the slightest idea what I should even begin to do after Tara angrily hung up on me. I mean, I was about as clueless as an Eskimo in West Palm Beach. I’d tried calling back but she wasn’t picking up and her mother informed me (and not without a hint of sympathy in her voice) that Tara wasn’t much in the mood to be talking at the moment. I tried e-mailing Tara, but I hardly expected that to go through.
For some reason, I called Chelsea, who was the inadvertent cause of all of this. I explained the situation to her and was met with a groan.
“Oh God Liam!” Chelsea said, “I didn’t mean for something like this to happen! I don’t even know why I told Tara! Seriously Liam, I’m so sorry!”
“What were you thinking?” I blurted out. I was a little sorry after I’d said it, because it probably only made Chelsea feel worse about the situation.
“I don’t know! It just sort of came out, you know. We were all sort of comparing notes and I mentioned how Ross had you apologize for not being there after the game one time and I think I got so caught up in remembering what you said that I, well, sort of, said everything you said,” Chelsea explained.
“So how am I supposed to fix this? Tara won’t even talk to me!”
“And I hardly think I’m going to be welcome either,” Chelsea said, “Try her mother yet?”
“She wants to help, but I don’t think she can,” I replied.
“Hmmm…well, give me a while and I’ll see what I can do,” Chelsea said, “I’ll call you back when I’ve got something.”
I waited pensively by the phone, just about tearing my hair out. It seemed like hours, even though Chelsea called me back twenty minutes later.
“Okay, I think I’ve found someone who can help us out,” Chelsea said.
***
“Liam, how could you have been so stupid!”
I knew I should have never agreed to it, but Chelsea was right. There weren’t any other options left. Katie Rollins was one of Tara’s very good friends. They’d played water polo together for the past few years and was considered to be an extremely nice girl. I knew her casually from having hung out around her, but not well enough to ask her to intercede on my behalf. Chelsea did know her well enough, however, and had convinced Katie of the gravity of the situation and gotten her to agree to help me.
“Fine, if it’s going to help anything, yes I am,” I said, “Now can you please tell me how we’re going to solve this?”
Katie picked up the frappuchino from the Starbucks attendant I’d just bought her as a thank you for her services. Not being a coffee drinker, I never knew how much coffee could cost. As she leaned across to get a couple napkins, I noticed that Katie’s shirt slid up a bit, revealing a bit of her midriff, which was about as slim as you could get. Despite that, it almost looked as if Katie might have put on maybe a pound or two, but it was probably just an optical illusion.
“Well first of all I’m going to have to break the ice for you. She’s obviously not in the mood to talk to you, but she’ll probably want to cry on my shoulder anyways,” Katie said as we sat down, “I’ll have her explain the situation and gently tell her that it was probably just an idle comment you made to Chelsea to cheer her up or something like that. I’ll make it up as I go along.”
“That’s just so comforting,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
“Do you want me to help you or not?” Katie said with a hint of anger, and then resumed calmly describing her plan, “Once I’ve gotten her sufficiently calmed down, I’ll see about setting something up between the two of you so you can patch things up again.”
“So it’s as simple as that?”
“And you’re supposed to be smart Liam! Obviously none of your books taught you how to deal with women,” Katie replied, “Tara’s going to be a wreck! It could take me all afternoon before I’ll even get close to having her rational. You just sit tight and I’ll call you when things are set for you.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for your call,” I replied.
“Oh, and Liam?”
“Yes?”
“Something tells me I might be needing some help with math homework soon. You’ll be a dear and help me through, right?” Katie said smiling sweetly.
“Of course, Katie,” I said smiling back, though thinking to myself, I knew there was going to be a price for this…
***
The next day I got a message on my phone from Katie.
“Yeah, Liam, it’s Katie. I saw Tara and she’s doing better now, though that’s not to say everything’s great. I told Tara that you were just distraught over the whole situation, which you are, and that the whole thing was a big misunderstanding. Of course it took me about three hours to get that far with her, so I certainly hope you’ve got something up your sleeve because this isn’t going to be very easy to patch up. Tara agreed for you to come over and see her tomorrow at one after a bit of coaxing. I did have to promise that she could throw you out at any point in time, so just be aware of that,” Katie’s voice said, “Yeah, I think that’s it, have a nice day!”
I personally found Katie’s farewell to be more than ironic, but that was completely irrelevant. As relieved as I was that Tara would see me again, I knew that Katie was telling the truth when she said this wouldn’t be easy. Though unfortunately I had no further insight as to the best way to handle the situation. From that point on, I tried to figure out how to best gain forgiveness from my beloved.
***
I rang Tara’s doorbell the next day with a bunch of tulips in my hand. I had stopped at the local flower stand near the supermarket and for some reason couldn’t find anything that said, “I’m sorry.” So for lack of something better, I got tulips.
As the door opened, I thrust the bouquet into the door silently, looking down at the ground.
I was met with, “I don’t think that these are for me, Liam.” Looking up, I found I had shoved the tulips into the face of Tara’s mother.
“Oh, sorry, Mrs. Kelly,” I said, embarrassed.
“Tara’s upstairs,” Mrs. Kelly said, “She said to send you up when you came.”
I nodded and took the familiar path up to Tara’s room. My nervousness only increased with my proximity to my fleshy goddess. Her door was shut, so I gently knocked and was greeted with a muffled, “Come in,” through the door.
I turned the knob and found Tara sitting on her bed in a pair of gray sweatpants that she filled out nicely, especially around the thighs, and a UCLA sweatshirt that impaired full appreciation of her girth. We briefly smiled at each other, more as a token greeting than anything else. I handed Tara the flowers and she smelled them briefly, and I guessed that this too was more out of courtesy than actual appreciation. I sat down next to Tara, leaving a respectable gap between us considering the way things stood at the moment, as Tara set the flowers down next to her and we were both silent for a few moments, looking at the floor as opposed to at each other.
I broke the silence first by saying, “Thanks for letting me stop by.”
“Yeah,” Tara said, nodding.
Despite the fact that I had tried to figure out a whole list of things to say to Tara beforehand, I now found that I had completely exhausted the extent of my prepared remarks. Therefore, for lack of anything better, I decided I should just start talking and see what happened. A dangerous stunt, but I was desperate to patch things up.
“Look, Tara,” I said, “I’m so sorry, really. You don’t know how tough these past couple of days have been for me. I mean, I’ve lain awake at night trying to figure out what I did—”
“Liam!” Tara exclaimed, a bit of the earlier anger coming back, “Come on! You’ve been eyeing Chelsea Magyar! She told me herself!”
Obviously this was not the way I wanted to start things. “Now just wait a second there,” I said, “Give me a chance to defend myself! All I said to Chelsea was that I couldn’t blame Ross for liking her. Is paying a compliment to someone now the same thing as wanting to go out with them?”
“What was I supposed to think Liam?” Tara protested.
“I don’t know!” I said, raising my voice slightly. I briefly wondered if Mrs. Kelly downstairs could be hear us, “But you didn’t even give me the chance to explain things on the phone. You just hung up on me.”
“So then why did you tell Chelsea she was cute?” Tara demanded, standing up.
“Because Chelsea’s always been quiet and shy. I don’t think anyone had ever asked her out before and I though her self-confidence could use a bit of a boost. I didn’t want Chelsea to feel like she wasn’t good enough for Ross.”
“How many other women have you been chasing after when I haven’t been looking, under the pretenses of raising their self-esteem, Liam?” Tara sneered.
“Christ almighty!” I said, now getting rather riled up and standing myself, “I thought you’d want me to be honest with you! Do you really want to know Tara? Plenty! But do you really think that I would have gone after just any pretty face after I got together with you?” I sat down on the bed, my anger ebbing as I suddenly felt disappointment come crashing down on me. “Tara, how did we get like this? How did we…oh I don’t know anymore what to say. Except that you have no idea how sorry I am, and that I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
Tara seemed a little calmed by my sudden turn of heart and she sat down again next to me, a little closer than last time. “So you really don’t like Chelsea?”
“Nowhere near as much as I like you. Chelsea might be cute, but you’re gorgeous,” I said with a faint smile.
Tara blushed a bit before she took my hand and squeezed it. “Well, I’m sorry too. I think I overreacted a little bit. It’s just that, well, when I heard about what you said to Chelsea, all of a sudden I felt…insecure. Like you really didn’t think I was pretty, despite everything you’d said. That you only said it to be nice…” Tara’s voice trailed off here and I bridged the gap by turning our handholding into one of those fleshy embraces that always sent me into ecstasy.
“Tara, oh Tara,” I said as I reveled in the warmth of Tara’s giant hug again, “I was nice to Chelsea when I gave her an offhand comment, but everything I’ve told you was much more than being nice. I think that’s what they call love.”
“Liam, I’m sorry for doubting you. It’s just—”
“Shhhhhh…whatever it is it doesn’t matter anymore,” I said as we pulled apart, “I just have two questions for you.”
“What?”
“Were you very depressed these past few days?” I asked.
“Of course I was, Liam!” Tara said, without a touch of anger again, “Do you think that I—”
I put a finger to Tara’s pink lips. “Did you alleviate your bad humor by perhaps indulging yourself in some quality comfort food?”
Tara started laughing and grabbed a pillow and gave me a very solid whack with it. I wasn’t sure that things would be the same with Tara and I, but I knew that they’d be a whole lot better now.
***
Those of you who have been keeping track might remember that my motivation for wanting to reconcile things with Tara quickly was not entirely selfish. There was the Nereid Invitational women’s water polo meet that the team was going to in the very near future, and if you’re really astute, you knew that it was starting the day after Tara and I patched things up. While I wasn’t one of the ultra-spirited people on campus, I of course wanted to see Tara do well, and that involved having the team do well.
Like all of the other family members and boyfriends, I dragged myself out of bed at some ungodly hour and hauled myself down to some pool with an insanely chilly wind that whipped through the cold metal stands. I think everyone was freezing, not the least of which were the girls, who at least looked cold as they did eggbeaters when they weren’t actively playing.
The tournament incorporated thirty-two different high schools from throughout the city and teams were paired off in brackets for single elimination. The entire tournament would take four days and actually operated at several different pools throughout the city so as to get things done in a timely fashion. I had been informed that the Nereid Invitational usually set the tone for the rest of the water polo season, and the winner was usually the favorite to win the city championship. Of course, that meant that Central had won the Neried Invitational for just about as long as anyone could remember. Luckily, the girls would only face them in the Finals as the teams had wound up on opposite sides of the brackets.
The RFK team had drawn well for their first match, and was playing one of the teams in their division who they regularly trounced in royal fashion. Tara was in good form, allowing only two goals in the entire game, while the offense, led by Jenna Shcherbatsky, produced a whopping fourteen goals by the end of the game. In short, it was a slaughter.
Like usual, there was so much splashing I couldn’t really get a good look at any of the girls, let alone Tara who was flopping all over the place to stop shots. Naturally, I was rewarded by the usual ceremonial handshake at the end of the game. I recalled the first water polo game I’d been to where I’d seen the time all in a line. Looking back on things, I was sure that as a whole had gotten chunkier. Sure, some girls like Katie and Morgan were still as thin as bamboo shoots, but there was no mistaking that Tina, Chelsea, Christy, Jenna, Kristin, and Lynn had all put on the pounds with Tara. And yet the team seemed to be doing better than ever before. I was entranced by the line of jiggling bodies, and noticed that the now vanquished opponents had a couple porkers themselves.
Tara scurried towards where all the players kept their bags. As she did so, I watched her white limbs jiggle furiously. Tara toweled off quickly and slipped into a swim parka that was warmly lined. She slipped on a pair of sweatpants as well so as to stay warm as I came up. I was pleased to note that the sweatpants were more than a little tight.
“You’d think that it was snowing you got into that so quickly,” I said, “I would have thought you were used to it by now.”
“How about I throw you into that pool and see how you feel when you get out,” Tara said with a mock frown, “Let me go change into something proper and then we can go have some breakfast, all right?”
“Of course,” I said with a broad smile and gave Tara a gentle caress around her belly.
Tara smiled and headed back to the locker rooms with the other girls, who were just as eager to get into warm, dry clothing.
About fifteen minutes later Tara came out, dressed in sweats that looked rather warm, I had to admit. We drove separately over to the nearby Denny’s and were seated rather easily. I sat down next to Tara, rather than across from her, telling her that since she was so cold from the pool, we’d best use the ancient Siberian survival method of “shared bodily warmth” so she didn’t freeze to death. Tara giggled at the thought.
I ordered the cheap Original Grand Slam, while Tara opted for the much more opulent French Toast Slam with a couple of eggs and some bacon to complement the meal. I would have approved of a larger meal, but I felt that I shouldn’t press Tara on the point, especially after the recent spat. Even though we’d patched things up, I didn’t want to open up old wounds.
“So, you guys seem to be doing all right,” I said, referencing the water polo match.
“Oh that was nothing. We won’t face a hard opponent for another couple of days,” Tara said with a wave of her hand.
“But still, you’ve had the best season ever for an RFK team.”
“Thus far,” Tara said tentatively, “Knock on wood and all.”
“What do you think your secret to success is?”
“Well, we’re all very dedicated this season, and everyone practiced extra hard during the summer season—”
“It wouldn’t have to do anything with having a little extra bulk to muscle your opponents out of the way with, would it?” I asked, giving Tara a gentle poke in her soft midsection.
“Liam!” Tara said, half-annoyed, “That’s just being absurd. How could being fat possibly help anything.”
“Well, it’s not just you, you know. Haven’t you noticed that Jenna’s gotten larger since her fling with Craig ended?”
“Well, that’s true. But that doesn’t have anything to do—”
“Or what about Tina? She’s been looking a bit plumper as of late.”
“Really, it’s one thing for us to talk about me that way, but this is going a little far,” Tara protested out of loyalty to her teammates, most likely.
“And that’s to say nothing of Lynn or Kristin or Christy,” I continued, determined to make a point.
“Are you really trying to say that because the team’s gotten fat we’ve been winning?” Tara said soft enough so no one else could hear.
“I’m only curious if you happen to think that might have something to do with the fact that you guys have been just about unstoppable lately,” I replied.
“Yeah, sure. Team gets fat and starts winning. All of the most modern sports trainers are currently using that very method to improve the performance of athletes around the globe,” Tara said sarcastically.
“Well, haven’t you ever noticed that it seems like water polo attracts the plumper slice of high school athletes?”
“Liam O’Shea!” Tara exclaimed, “Are you trying to insinuate something about me?” Of course she was joking, and Tara couldn’t contain her laughter.
“All right, that’s fine. You don’t have to believe me,” I said, “I make the greatest breakthrough in modern water polo strategy and you ridicule me. Just wait until I write my book on this and there are teams all over the country that are dictating their girls eat five courses a day so as to get ‘fit’ for water polo season. My theories about the relationship between girth and buoyancy are going to win me some prestigious award like an ESPY or something. I’ll be hired to coach the Shiz University team, make oodles of money, and be inducted to some hall of fame in Akron, Ohio.”
“All right, all right, you win Dr. O’Shea,” Tara said, “If I institute your new diet, will we win the Nereid Cup? Wait a second….Shiz—”
I stepped in very seriously before Tara could quite figure out where I’d come up with the fictious Shiz University. “Well, naturally one wouldn’t start on such a radically different dietary regime without making sure that it was integrated into your training as a whole, which would require Coach’s approval. I’ll have to see about arranging an appointment with him so I can relate my recent expostulations to him.”
“Oh like that’ll ever happen. We both know that you’d never own up to any of this in public,” Tara said with a gentle laugh.
“Excuse me?”
“Come on Liam, we’re both closet cases,” Tara said, no joking in her seriousness now, “Do you think I’ve actually admitted to anyone that I like being fat? That’d be like social suicide! Have you told any of your friends that you like me stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey?”
“Well, now that you mention it…” I said, though I knew very well that I had never even though about articulating my thoughts regarding the most attractive shape of woman to anyone else alive on this planet.
“None, right?” Tara said, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. It’s almost like we have our own little secret.”
“Hmmmm…well some secrets are too good to keep,” I said and then promptly gave Tara a big kiss on her lips.
Tara smiled back at me when I was done. “Now let’s couple that with you and a megaphone in the quad as you tell everyone how much you love your deliciously overstuffed girlfriend.”
“Don’t tempt me, or the devil might get the better of me, Tara Kelley,” I replied with a mischievous grin, “Don’t you tempt me.”
“Well I’ll still love you even if this stays our little secret,” Tara said before giving me a kiss back. She pulled away from me when she spotted our waitress coming with breakfast.
“Then again, you could be right. There are some things that are better as secrets,” I said as our plates were laid in front of us, “And secrets are like a good movie. They only get better with time.”
***
I realized when I got home that day that unconsciously I’d been hanging back a little bit from Tara ever since we’d gotten together. Sure, I’d always encouraged her eating habits, to the point that she’d gotten rounder during our relationship. But I hadn’t done anything in public past hand her those favored 100 Grand candy bars. Whenever we’d go out, I never made a secret of the fact that I adored Tara as she’d eat meals that were past what was considered socially acceptable, but in retrospect I realized we’d never been around people we knew when we went out to dinner.
I now looked back at the larger water polo team and thought in a different light. In Southern California, it was a big deal if a girl put on ten pounds. Surely the other water polo boyfriends had noticed the expansion of their girlfriends. After thinking about things, I finally settled on mentioning the subject with Tom, Jenna’s latest beau. They’d been together for some time now, and unlike Jenna’s past flings, she seemed to be absolutely stuck on Tom, who had long harbored a deep crush for the blonde bomb of our junior class.
Tom and I had been good friends for quite some time, and chatted for a bit whenever we ran into each other. Of course, all I’d heard about for the last month was “Jenna, Jenna, Jenna”. Well, that’s unfair. Jenna was all I’d heard about for the last two years when I spoke with Tom.
I seized my chance the next morning before the girls’ second match of the tournament. This one was later in the morning, but it was still colder than I would have liked. Tom appeared to agree, seeing as he was bundled up in a ski jacket.
“Warm enough in that thing?” I asked as I sat down next to Tom.
“Jesus Christ,” Tom said, “Remind me not to go to college where it gets colder than 70 degrees outside. I’m freezing.”
“Yeah, well, I thought that was supposed to be Southern California and yet we’re still cold,” I replied.
“I’m thinking Key West Community College,” Tom replied, “It hasn’t been below 80 degrees there since the Ice Age.”
I laughed and discreetly took a bit of a quick look around me, just to make sure we were relatively alone. Ascertaining that that was indeed the case, I said to Tom, “So, how are you and Jenna?”
“Couldn’t be better, my friend. Could not be better. She’s such a peach,” Tom said, obviously happy to be discussing his favorite topic.
“That’s great. It’s nice that things sometimes finally work out for the nice guys for once,” I replied. It was true. Like myself, Tom wasn’t exactly a member of the popular clique, so his chances of ever getting together with Jenna were slim. In all honesty, I never quite understood how it came about between them, but it did and that was what mattered.
“Yeah, same thing with you and Tara. You two are like two turtledoves,” Tom said.
“Thanks. Say, I’ve confided in you quite a bit over the years, right?” I said, feeling that this was the right moment to begin what was going to be a bit of an awkward conversation on both ends.
“Of course. You got something to get off your chest?”
“Well, sort of. I need to know your opinion about something.”
Tom looked around to make sure the coast was clear. We’d always taken each other’s confidences very seriously, and swore that only a subpoena would force it out of us, and even then it would depend. “All right. You know it’s safe with me, whatever it is.”
I had intended to ease into the subject so as not to freak Tom out, but before I knew what I was doing, I said, “Do you think it’s weird that I like Tara even though she’s…umm…a bit rounder than your average poster girl?”
“Oh come on, Liam. You’re the one who was always saying that looks were always secondary to a good personality, and everyone knows that Tara’s about as sweet as sugar,” Tom said.
“No, it’s not that,” I said, cutting in, figuring that I might as well go for broke, “Of course Tara’s a nice girl, and that’s really important and all, but that’s not it. What I mean is…do you think that it’s wrong that I think that Tara’s actually—” here I took a deep breath, “—attractive? You know, that she’s good looking even though she’s…”
“…On the heavier side,” Tom finished for me, “Phew. Well, I’m glad you brought it up. Saves me the trouble.”
“Excuse me?” I said, surprised.
“Well, you’ve probably noticed that Jenna’s been getting thicker too, right?”
“Oh well—” I started.
“Be honest, not nice,” Tom said sternly.
“All right. Yeah, I have. That’s sort of the reason why I brought it up.”
“At first I wasn’t exactly sure about it, you know,” Tom said, “I mean, it sort of goes against the grain, if you know what I mean. But after a while, I found that it wasn’t so bad. I mean, first of all, Jenna’s even better stacked now than before.” We shared a grin over this, as it was certainly true. “However, I found it wasn’t so bad having a bit of extra bulk. And Jenna certainly doesn’t seem to freak out about it like I would have thought she would have. She almost seems happier.”
“So, you don’t mind it?”
“Not if she doesn’t. But I think I can say with a great deal of certainty that we’re coming from the same place here.”
“All right, thanks man. And here I thought I was getting all weird,” I said, relieved.
“Nah, you’ve always been weird,” Tom said with a smile, “All that Irish stuff, you know.”
“Oh, go to hell Tom,” I said as he burst out laughing.
***
My mind was set much more at ease during the game by the fact that I’d had my feelings validated by someone else. I realized that it reassured me that I wasn’t weird. Despite the fact that I’d confided in Tara about my less than normal preference in women, I now knew that all along I’d had the same insecurities that Tara had suffered from. I idly wondered during a break in play what I would have thought if Tara had made an offhand reference about another guy. From my current position, I naturally assured myself that I would have been reasonable, but maybe I wouldn’t have been. I suddenly had a lot more sympathy for what Tara had been feeling during our brief, but painful, estrangement.
The match was a success, once more, as Tara had, without being cocky or overconfident, assured me it would be. This was to be the last of their easy matches though, as all of the mediocre teams had been weeded out of the tournament by this point. After the obligatory (and still stunning) handshake line, I rushed over to Tara before she could get to her towel and threw my arms around her, kissing her, not quite passionately, but more than a token peck on the cheek.
“Liam!” Tara whispered when we broke away, her cheeks red as a result of the cold air and some embarrassment at such a public display of affection.
“What? Can’t I make the other goalie jealous that she didn’t win?” I said with a smile.
“Oh, well, she probably feels badly enough already,” Tara said, “but now you’re wet, I’m still cold, and people are watching…”
If I’d been of a different frame of mind, I would have checked myself, but instead I just said, “Even if they are, you know what, dear? I want them to know how much I’m absolutely in love with you.”
“I think I might be in love with you too,” Tara said beaming, “Now I’m going to catch cold. Can I please get my towel now? And it looks like I’m going to need to dry you off as well.”
Tara was right. I’d gotten the front of myself wet in our embrace and I became aware of the fact that the wind was beginning to pick up now. “Oh, sure,” I said sheepishly. But even though I was wet, I couldn’t have been happier with Tara.